Followers

Wednesday, 7 April 2010

Stash. I Haz It.

Hand Wash Towers is currently a hot bed of activity. Spring has sprung and with it the need to clean and reorganize, re-prioritize and basically get my life and home into some kind of order. Spring cleaning this year coincides with the annual "Yarn-Toss", a necessary endeavour to ensure that my stash remains moth-free and useable.

This year, however, I have to re-organize my storage space, which meant that my whole stash had be be brought out of all its' hidey holes and stored separately in its own collection of plastic crates, bought from Ikea especially for the purpose. While checking for moths and nasties, I took the time to list what I had (or most of it ) on Ravelry to help me keep track.

While Studley knows I have a stash, and is even known to contribute to it once in a while, he had no idea of the actual quantity of yarn hidden around the place. He came home, walked into the bedroom and silently surveyed the tower of plastic crates standing some six feet high in front of him, with more boxes and bags of the fondlesome stuff sitting at his feet.

I must admit, I was a little worried at how Studley might react to seeing the stash in all its entirety.

"Babe, " he said at last, "you might need a couple more crates." Is that it? That's all?

Apparently, Studley has no problem with it, and he calmly explained why.

Yarn may not always remain yarn. It may become sweaters, hats, scarves, socks, etc. Therefore it will never just sit there in the tower of crates forever.

Yarn doesn't go off and smell bad.

Yarn is not pointy, or sharp. It is in itself not dangerous, and does not bite or growl, or need a litter tray, or even a daily walk in the park. It also does not need expensive medical treatment.

The yarn, however much you pay for it, gives more hours of pleasure than the same amount spent on other entertainment, like a night out or a West-end show, making knitting a cheaper and cost-effective form of entertainment. And finally:

Complaining about the amount of my hoard of collectibles, may mean at some point I will start complaining about his hoard of collectibles, so it's better for him to keep his mouth shut.

"You do realise", he added, "that you can't get into your wardrobe for all the stash. How are you going to get to your clothes?"